Entitled
by Captain Black Feather
Summary: Miley was an ordinary girl. Okay, so maybe she wasn't so ordinary. But neither was that crazy girl with the bright pink hair that wormed her way into her life. AU in which Lilly does not exist, but Lola is still Hannah's friend.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Miley was an ordinary girl. Okay, so maybe she wasn't so ordinary. But neither was that crazy girl with the bright pink hair that wormed her way into her life.

**AN:**

**This story follows the adventures of Miley Stewart and her life as Hannah Montana, but is an AU in the fact that no, she never revealed her secret and she never met Lilly Truscott. However, a girl named Lola with numerous eccentricities is still a large part of Hannah's life. I'm still getting back into the groove of writing, so bare with me please.**

_Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me_

* * *

><p>Hannah watched bemusedly as Lola twirled around in her black and white dotted skirt and mismatching blouse. The two girls were getting ready to make their appearance at the hottest new VIP club to hit the streets, The Ace of Arts. Strapping up her heels and checking the time on her ZPhone6, Hannah watched as the shorter girl plucked at the strands of her bright pink hair and fiddled with the bow in her hair.<p>

"Come on Lola, we have to leave before the night ends, you know," Hannah said, eyeing her friend who seemed to be stuck in a moral battle between blue or red bracelets.

"Hold on a second Hannah. Do you think this is too gaudy?" Lola asked, holding up a sparkly bag that seemed to reflect off light sources that didn't even exist.

"Yes. Now come on," Hannah grunted, grabbing Lola by the wrist and dragging the stumbling girl out the door.

Pulling up in a sleek black limousine, the duo drew attention the moment they stepped onto the sidewalk. There was a surreptitious entrance towards the club with a flashy neon sign indicating that they had arrived at The Ace of Arts. If it was not for the line wrapping around the block, one might think they were in the wrong place. However, the club was significant for portraying a modern speakeasy, where one felt the thrill of breaking the laws of prohibition even if those were voided almost a century ago.

The partygoers in the line shook and screamed as soon as they saw the international teen pop sensation and her best friend enter the scene. Some were visibly torn between maintaining their positions at the front of the line and rushing up to gain an autograph. In a mere second lights began to flash as both paparazzi and amateur photographers with cell phones began to capture pictures of the two girls. Accustomed to the glare of lights, Hannah and Lola strut towards the entrance, unaffected by the stares of all those in the line in front of the door.

The bouncer caught their eye for half a second before granting them immediate access, failing to bother to check their IDs. Lola gave Hannah a Cheshire grin as they stepped down into the underground club, where fog and strobe lights began to consume their vision.

"This is fun, right?" Lola called out over the thumping bass, which seemed to vibrate straight through their bodies.

"Lola, the party hasn't even started yet," Hannah retorted, stifling a laugh. With that, the girls approached the bar, drawing the stares of anyone who wasn't trashed beyond belief. Catching the eye of the bartender, Hannah decided that she was definitely going to get this hunk's number before the end of the night.

"What can I get you girls?" The bartender asked, flashing a confident smirk towards the blonde popstar.

"A Hollywood for myself and a Cherry Hooker for my friend, thanks," Hannah told the man with a wink. Lola saw her friend eyeing the barman and gave him a onceover. He sort of looked like Channing Tatum, only less like a thumb. She approved. Whisking her glass away as the man placed it in front of her, Lola doubted the two noticed she had even left.

"So, what's a girl like Hannah Montana doing at a club like this?" The man asked, his warm brown eyes boring into the girl's blue ones.

"Didn't you hear? The laws of common man don't apply to me," Hannah joked, referencing the fact that people stopped trying to prevent the girl from doing anything that might be considered illegal, so long as she wasn't committing murder.

"Ah. I didn't peg you as the type of girl who got herself into trouble," the man quipped as he ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed brunette hair.

"I don't get into trouble… and I don't believe I got your name either," Hannah continued.

"The name's Shaun."

Meanwhile, a girl with outlandish hair captivated the dance floor, a salacious magnetism drawing the crowd towards her like moths to a flame. Nobody would deny that Lola was the centre of attention, watching entranced as the girl swung her hips tauntingly to the beat. The pink haired socialite found a certain delight in grinding against strangers to a song that she'd never heard, but certainly wished she'd had a bit more to drink. Not that she was going to interrupt Hannah and her new friend anytime soon.

Spotting a bartender who seemed to be picking up the slack of his coworker, Lola sauntered over in the hopes of granting herself something strong and sugary.

"A Blow Job please," Lola announced to the admittedly less attractive bartender. The man only blinked owlishly at her.

"What?"

Groaning, Lola pinched her brow. "The drink," she clarified.

The last song finally ended, and a fast paced remix of a song she last heard five years ago replaced it. Several drinks of varying flavours later and Lola decided she was drunk enough to return to the sweaty mosh of legal and not so legal partiers. Hastily retreating from the bar to get away from the not-hunky barman and his awkward misunderstanding of drink names, Lola once again brought the attention of all the other hotshots around her.

After a few minutes of returning to the floor, Lola felt a pair of hands land on her hips as she let loose to the god-awful song that she wouldn't admit that she liked. Turning her head to find out who had decided to get up close and personal with her, she saw a dude with a chiseled jaw and scruff that worked a little too well smirking down at her. Lola decided that, while his hair reminded her of cleaning supplies, he was attractive enough to dance with her. But of course, not without shouting over the music to tell him, "your hair looks like a mop".

"So, what's the chance of getting your number?" Hannah asked Shaun after her second drink. She had planned to further indulge, but decided she wanted to stay competent enough to hold a proper conversation with this guy.

"Well, You have about a fifty percent chance as of right now… But if you were to give me yours, then it might go up to ninety nine," Shaun said.

"Oh, good looking _and _a mathematician," Hannah cooed.

"Ha, Ha. Very funny, Miss Montana," Shaun replied. Still, the bartender wrote his number down on a napkin and passed it to the popstar. He said nothing, but merely quirked an eyebrow as Hannah took out her Zphone6 and tapped in his number.

"What?" Hannah asked after noting his pointed look.

"I didn't think that was out in stores yet," He replied.

"It's not. Perks of being a star," Hannah sang. Before he could further comment, she grabbed his pen and scribbled her number down on his arm. Noticing the overworked bartender at the other side of the bar, Hannah was silently thankful that Shaun had decided to blow off his work to talk to her. Noticing the time, Hannah momentarily freaked, hardly believing that almost three hours had passed.

"Are you okay?" Shaun asked, noting her worried expression.

"Yeah, uh, it's just that I really should have been keeping track of the time. I may not be privy to laws, but I'm still under the rules of my dad," she moaned.

"You haven't even been here that long," Shaun whined.

"Chill, Shaun. I can text you later. I need to find my friend," Hannah dismissed him.

"I think she's a bit busy," Shaun said, gesturing with a tilt of his head to the corner of the bar.

It was then that Hannah noticed Lola in a secluded part of the bar, sitting on some stranger's lap, swapping saliva. She would blame the alcohol on the feeling that a bowling ball had been dropped inside her torso. She was definitely not getting turned on.

"Well, I guess it's time to break up that party," Hannah announced, finally leaving the bar.

"Talk to you later?" Shaun asked hopefully. Hannah merely gave him a thumbs up before approaching Lola and a guy whose hair looked suspiciously like a mop. Hannah attempted to hide her blush at Lola's reaction to the dude putting his hands on inappropriate places. She would acknowledge her best friend was hot, okay?

"Okay, sorry to interrupt, but we need to leave soon. Also you look like a porno in action," Hannah said, catching the startled attention of the duo.

"Was it at least a good porno?" Lola asked.

"Not the point. It's been three hours and we need to get back home," Hannah said.

"Really? Well, I probably won't see you later Liam," Lola told the guy, who didn't look very concerned either way.

The two girls left the club, trying to shelter themselves from the attention they so earlier reveled in. Hannah called her driver to pick her up in an inconspicuous black SUV, feeling that the limo might be a bit much. Not to mention her friend was roaring drunk, which never made for good magazine articles.

Returning to Lola's mansion of a home without a hitch, the girls stumbled into the pink haired girl's room, which was surprisingly plain considering the eccentricities of the shorter girl.

"Hang on, I need to drink my body weight in water," Lola moaned, starting to feel the side effects of drinking far too much for her body to handle. Hannah grabbed a bottle of water for herself, then passed a bottle to Lola, who was sprawled on her oversized bed.

"I think I'll head home," Hannah sighed, looking at the clock on the wall.

"You always go home. Why don't you spend the night?" Lola asked, only slightly accusatory.

"You know how my dad is. Just drink your water and call me if you're not too hung over tomorrow," Hannah replied.

Lola only grunted, signifying the end of that conversation. Hannah left the girl to fall asleep in her clothes, and got in her driver's car. Pulling off her wig, Miley withheld a sigh. She had a lot of fun as Hannah, but she felt a strong surge of guilt every time she was reminded that her best friend was still in the dark about her secret.


	2. Chapter 2

It was officially too early for Miley to be awake. This didn't change the fact that the sun was piercing her eyes through the gaps in the curtains. Groaning, the brunette girl untucked herself from her sheets, which were starting to stifle her with heat. Feeling only slightly under the weather, Miley trudged into her bathroom and began to flush her face with water. She shifted onto the bathmat, trying to avoid the cool tiles against her feet.

"Miley!" Jackson screamed, startling her as he barged into the bathroom.

"Jackson I swear one day I will kill you," Miley grit out.

"Where were you last night?" Jackson asked smugly.

"None of your business," Miley said, putting the small amount of energy she had into ignoring him.

"Was Hannah out and pumping up the party?" Jackson asked condescendingly. With all the effort she could muster, Miley pushed her older brother out of the room, locking the door after him. Grumbling to herself, Miley undressed and got in the shower, ready to wash last night off her.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Miley was drawn towards the sweet smell of bacon and eggs. Having redressed in comfortable, casual clothes, the girl hopped down the stairs to greet her father and more importantly, eat some breakfast.

"Someone came home a little late last night," Robby said to her daughter with the specific tone in his voice that told Miley that the next thing she said could either get her off free or get her into trouble. It was times like these Miley was glad that her father never read magazines unless her PR guy told him to.

"Oh you know Lola dad, she's always trying to get me to stay for another movie," Miley bluffed, convincing her father that a girls night out with Lola only ever consisted of ice cream and bad romantic comedies. Seeing that Robby was placated with this answer, Miley began to dig into the sizzling bacon and eggs on the table in front of her.

After devouring her breakfast, Miley decided to head down to the beach. Purposely ramming her shoulder into Jackson as he came into the living room, she left the indignant boy and her father behind as she started to walk down to Rico's, which seemed to be the hub of activity for the town.

"There you are Miley! I couldn't get a hold of you last night," called out a familiar voice.

"Hey Oliver. I was having a girl's night with my friend from out of town," Miley replied. The boy with shaggy dark hair that flared near his shoulders dusted himself off as he got off his seat at Rico's.

"Like I haven't heard that one before. I'm starting to believe that this girl doesn't even exist," Oliver said.

"Oliver, you're my best friend, but I need to spend time with my girl friends, even if it means driving out of the city to do it," Miley said, trying to figure out a way to convince Oliver that she wasn't avoiding him without revealing the fact that she was secretly a celebrity. From the corner of her eye she spotted a stack of magazines in Rico's shack.

"I mean, we were just catching up on the latest scandals," Miley said, picking up a magazine and waving it, as if that was the perfect excuse.

"Miley! I can read magazines with you, look, here's an article on Hannah Montana," Oliver said with an infatuated grin. Miley suppressed a groan.

"Listen to this! _Last night Pop sensation Hannah Montana was spotted outside the hottest new club in Malibu with her enigmatic best friend Lola Luftnagle, the eccentric daughter of oil baron Rudolph Luftnagle. The owner of the club insists that there are strict regulations on minors in his club, and that no alcohol was sold to anyone under the age of 21, starlets or not. The two girls disappeared incognito later that night, so we guess they hadn't gotten themselves into any trouble!_" Oliver read, hearts in his eyes.

Well, Miley thought, at least they hadn't found out about all the alcohol the two had actually consumed.

"Isn't Hannah great? And her friend is so pretty too," Oliver swooned. Miley rolled her eyes. She was just glad that she didn't have to dance around the whole Hannah secret anymore.

"You know, she kind of reminds me of you in a way," Oliver mentioned offhandedly. Okay, so maybe not, Miley thought.

"Oh! I just remembered! Dad wanted me to be back home before one for some reason, gotta go!" Miley shouted, making a hasty exit. Oliver waved a hand at her, eyes still glued to the photos in the magazine.

Finally looking up, Oliver noticed Jackson wearing a suit that seemed to be made of tin foil.

"Don't ask," Jackson said, unamused.

Running back up to her room, Miley collapsed on her bed. She was so thankful to get a chance to live a normal life _and _a celebrity life, but the secret was getting harder and harder to keep. Oliver always brought up things like, "I've never heard you sing before," and "I wonder what Hannah would look like as a brunette". It was one of the few times Miley was glad that Oliver could be so thick. Still, she moped, what if the next comment was the straw that broke the camel's back? He might do something irrational like tell some paparazzi, or even worse, he might hate her. Miley grunted into her pillow.

The next day school began for the week. Miley was glad to catch up with Oliver again, reminding herself that he was still oblivious as always. Meeting him at his locker, she smiled at him as he retrieved his books for the next class.

"Ready for another riveting English class?" Miley taunted, laughing as Oliver moaned in despair.

"That's what we have? Damn," he said.

"What would you do without me?" Miley said with a smirk. Just as she finished her sentence, Amber and Ashley walked past her. Amber caught Miley's foot with her heel, pulling it back towards her just as Miley meant to step forward. The girl fell down against the lockers, embarrassed. Amber and Ashley began to laugh at her, causing everyone else in the hallway to join in.

"Hey! Just because you can't control your offensively pink shoes, doesn't mean you should take it out on Miley," Oliver snapped. The kids in the hallway all giggled at the remark about the girls' shoes, causing Amber and Ashley to scowl.

"Whatever, loser boy," Ashley said with a hair flip, and the two stalked off.

"I don't know why you hang around me. You know they only insult you because of me," Miley sighed.

"Look, I was the guy who spread the possum rumour in sixth grade. I felt guilty that I was the person who ruined any hopes of being cool for you, so I decided to give that up to make it up to you. And I made a great friend. I mean, who else would remember my timetable for me," Oliver confessed.

Miley was touched by Oliver's sentimental words, but on the inside she felt like he had punched her in the gut. Why did he have to be such a good friend? Keeping her secret from him was getting to be a total burden.

Returning home from school, Miley dragged herself through the front door.

"What's up with the whole walkin' like a zombie thing?" Robby asked.

"Oh Dad, I don't know if I can take it," Miley lamented.

"Take what?" Robby asked, putting down the dishrag by the sink and making his way over to Miley.

"Oliver is such a great friend and I'm keeping this huge secret from him. He's so close to figuring it out too! What if he finds out and decides he hates me?" Miley cried.

"Darling, Oliver won't hate you for anything. But you know I trust your judgement. If you think it's the right thing to do, and you trust the boy, what you do is your decision," Robby said. Miley sighed, but contemplated her father's words. She knew that telling Oliver about Hannah was going to be hard, but it needed to be done.

Miley paced in her room, awaiting Oliver's arrival. She had sent a text to him asking him to come over, and was taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. She tucked her brunette hair up and under a blonde wig, and had dipped into the Hannah closet to make the transformation into Hannah Montana. The sound of the doorbell broke the tense silence, and Robby answered the door, letting Oliver in.

Hannah walked down the steps into the living room, waiting for Oliver's reaction. He stood there, stuttering, a look of both shock and confusion painted on his face.

"Hey," Hannah said, breaking the silence.

"Oh My God. Oh my- Oh my god," Oliver said, freaking out. After a few minutes, he managed to calm himself enough to construct proper sentences.

"What- What are you doing in Miley's house?" Oliver asked, glancing to Robby, who was standing there in silence.

"That's the thing, Oliver. I am Miley," Hannah sighed, reaching up and pulling the wig from her head, brunette tresses tumbling down her shoulders. Both Miley and Robby jumped as Oliver fell backwards, unconscious.

A few minutes later, Oliver was lying on the couch, being fanned by Miley with a newspaper. Finally stirring, Oliver sat himself up.

"Whoa Miley, the weirdest thing just happened," Oliver laughed. Miley bit her lip, anxious. "I had a dream that you were…" Oliver trailed off, noticing Miley dressed up in Hannah's wardrobe.

"You are. Hannah, that is." Oliver said, finally sobered, hardly believing the words himself.

"Yeah," Miley said, guilty.

"Oh man, all those things I said about you-"

"Oliver, you didn't know. I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier," Miley said softly.

"Miley, I… I don't like that you kept this from me. But I do understand," Oliver said after a minute of silence.

"Really?" Miley asked, hope sneaking into her voice.

"Yeah. Wow. I can't say I saw this coming," Oliver chuckled.

"You kinda did. Nobody else even saw the resemblance between me and Hannah," Miley said, lightly punching Oliver's arm.

"Hey, yeah! That's right I did," Oliver said proudly.

"We… Are we cool?" Miley asked.

"You're my best friend Miley. Of course we're cool," Oliver said. "So, when's your next concert?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm so excited to be going to a real party with real celebrities!" Oliver almost squealed.

"Calm down big boy. We still need to get you some kind of getup," Miley said, towing Oliver towards her Hannah closet.

"Why are we looking through your clothes for a disguise for me?" Oliver asked, squinting.

"We stick a lot of crazy costumes in here too. Don't even ask about the swan outfit," Miley explained.

The pair of friends rifled through the back of the Hannah closet, drawing out reject clothes that might ruin Hannah's career if ever worn. Pulling on a punk rocker wig, Oliver opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue in an imitation of Gene Simmons.

"Not happening," Miley said in horror. Oliver rolled his eyes and put the wig away.

"Do you want to go for hillbilly relative or white rapper?" Miley asked, holding up a dusty leather vest and a baggy graphic hooded jacket.

"I'll go with the rapper," Oliver replied, snagging the jacket and shrugging it over his shoulders. Miley returned to the depths of the closet, searching for more clothes that would coordinate with his chosen look.

"What's your name going to be?" Miley called out, muffled by the numerous clothes around her. Oliver glanced around, trying to find inspiration. His eyes landed on a microphone off to the side of the room, situated near an empty stand.

"Mic Stand. Uh… Mike. Stand..ley," Oliver hesitated for a moment, "the third". Miley popped back into the light of the room, holding a bundle of clothes which seemed far too baggy for anyone to possibly wear, sneakers, and a bunch of beanies and visor hats.

"Creative," Miley muttered.

"Why do you have these clothes anyway?" Oliver asked.

"Jackson had a _phase_," Miley shuddered.

"Do you think I could get some facial hair too? Your dad's moustache works so well," Oliver said.

"Knock yourself out," Miley sighed.

By the end of the night, Oliver had created a solid disguise for himself as Mike Standley III. He swaggered into the room, baggy pants pooling around his sneakers, jacket swinging around with his wild arm movements as he rapped.

"My name is Mike and I'm gonna get down / Nobody's seen moves like these in this town / I'm partying with Hannah she really is the best / My name is Mike and I'm gonna get freaky-freaky-fresh," he finished, posing awkwardly.

"Rule number one, none of that at the party, okay?" Miley said, donning her Hannah wig.

"Whatever Miley. Nothing can bring me down tonight!" He shouted, pumping his fists in the air.

"Rule number two. When the wig goes on, it's Hannah," Miley told him sternly.

"Right, got it," Mike replied, smoothing over his goatee. The two exited the house, getting in a flashy limousine, much to Mike's excitement.

"Rule number three, keep cool," Hannah instructed him, settling herself down on the plush seats.

"Yeah. Wow, I'm riding in a limo!" Mike said enthusiastically.

"Just wait till you get to the party," Hannah muttered.

The drive to the party hardly took fifteen minutes, but it felt like the longest fifteen minutes of Mike's life. He could hardly contain his excitement. He was going to a party with real live celebrities! Swallowing the nervousness, he was calmed as Hannah gave him a confident smile. He knew it was Miley under there, supporting him.

Stepping out of the limo, Hannah and Mike instantly caught attention.

"Hannah, is this your new boy toy?" a particularly rude paparazzo asked obnoxiously.

"Mike is just a friend," Hannah announced before dragging Mike towards the bouncer. The tough looking lady gave them a tight nod, opening the door for them. Mike was immediately blinded by all the sights and sounds around him. The beat of the music seemed to pulse right through him, but nobody else paid it any attention. People were lined up, taking shots of unknown liquids. Some were swishing their hips awkwardly, and some were making out in corners. It was just like a normal teenager party, only there were celebrities. Mike was sure that he spotted Fergie grinding up against Justin Bieber to his left.

Hannah brought Mike straight to the bar, where a girl with shoulder length blue hair was greedily drinking in the sight of some dude that was probably a Calvin Klein model.

"That's Lola!" Mike whisper-shouted to Hannah. The blonde turned her head around to smirk at him.

"You thought I wasn't going to introduce you to my best girl friend?" Hannah asked.

"So that's who you're always seeing!" Mike exclaimed, finally connecting the dots.

"Took you long enough," Hannah said.

"Hannah!" Lola shouted over the sleazy song that was blaring through the speakers. She ran over in four-inch heels, still somehow managing to be shorter than her best friend. Her outfit was considerably casual tonight, but still attracted much attention for its individuality.

"Hey Lola," Hannah greeted her friend, kissing her on the cheek.

"Who is this guy? What happened to Shaun?" Lola asked, referring to the bartender she had met the other night.

"Turns out Shaun had a girlfriend," Hannah said exasperatedly. Lola shook her head in disappointment.

"He was so good looking too," Lola sighed.

"Anyway, this is Mike. He's a _friend_," Hanna said, gesturing to the boy next to her.

"You- You're really pretty," Mike said with a goofy grin.

"Aw, thank you!" Lola gushed. Snapping out of his funk, Mike seemed to calm down a little,

"Mike and I met a few years ago, and we've been keeping in touch, but he's finally moved here from New Jersey! Isn't that great?" Hannah said, improvising a background for her friend.

"Does she know?" Mike whispered into Hannah's ear. His response was a subtle but firm shake of the head.

"Oh, there's Justin Timberlake! He's such a sweetheart, if only he would stop calling me jailbait," Lola said, punctuating her sentence with a sigh. Hannah pulled Mike away at the distraction, pushing him into a storeroom of some sort.

"Lola does not know the Hannah secret, so it's gonna stay that way, okay?" Hannah told her friend.

"Miley," Mike said, ignoring Hannah's pointed glare, "if Lola is your best friend, you should tell her. I'm glad you told me, but don't you think she deserves to know?"

Hannah sighed, guilty.

"Look, you knew both Miley _and _Hannah, which made keeping the secret a bit harder. Lola only knows Hannah," she justified.

"That doesn't mean you should keep it a secret. Do you know how upset she'd be?" Mike hissed.

"Look, I'll tell her okay?" Hannah gave in. "Just, keep quiet until then".

The two exited the closet, cringing as they drew inquisitive and suggestive stares from the other partygoers. Hannah and Mike returned to Lola, who looked slightly lost.

"There you are! You guys disappeared on me," she moaned.

"Sorry, I figured you wanted some alone time with Mr Timberlake," Hannah said teasingly.

"Cute," Lola huffed, blushing.

"How about you two get to know each other while I go talk to Tracy," Hannah said quickly, pushing Mike towards Lola and running off.

"Ugh, Tracy. So, what kind of music do you like? Aside from Hannah Montana of course," Lola asked the stammering boy.

"Well, I like a little bit of Radiohead here and there…" Mike started.

"Oh my god, me too!" Lola shouted happily. The two then began to share opinions on music taste, expressing their mutual dislike for Macklemore, who seemed to be giving them the stink eye from across the room. Lola shared her secret hobby of skateboarding and surfing, which Mike also eagerly responded with his own favourite surfboarding spots.

Meanwhile, Hannah was pacing, trying to avoid conversation with some dude who looked like Steve from Blue's Clues but probably wasn't actually him. She knew that she was going to have to tell Lola her secret by the end of the night. She stomped into the bathroom, looking at her face in the mirror. She set the ball rolling by telling Oliver about her double life, it was only fair that Lola knew. Oliver may have taken the news relatively well, but she didn't know how Lola would react. That girl was as unpredictable as rain in LA.

Resigning herself to the fact that Oliver was right, Lola did deserve to know the truth, Hannah set out in search of her friend. She approached a lounge, where she finally noticed a bright blue head of hair. Lola seemed to be deep in conversation with Mike, who was going on about the different shapes of surfboards and how they affect speed and manoeuvrability.

"Glad to see my two best friends are getting along," Hannah said as she walked up to them.

"Two best friends? I share a title now?" Lola scoffed playfully.

"Hey, I can't help that I have to be number one in everything," Mike retorted. Hannah smiled; glad that at least her best friends liked each other. She was going to have a conniption if Tracy and Lola went at each other's throats again.

"This party blows. The guy won't even sell me any tequila," Lola told Hannah.

"I'm sorry you don't know how to have fun while sober," Hannah teased her friend.

"You suck. I mean, we should go back to my house and chill for a while, away from these sweaty people," Lola continued.

"That's a great idea!" Mike said, making eye contact with Hannah.

"Off we go then," Hannah said, preparing internally for the confrontation that was soon to occur.

The three of them exited the party and got into a limo without much hassle, and made their way to Lola's estate. Mike offered Hannah a similar smile of encouragement that she had given him on their way to the party, but it did little to settle the girl's nerves.

"Do you want me to help you?" Mike whispered to Hannah as they got out of the limo. Hannah hung back as Lola opened the large doors leading into her house.

"Do you mind waiting outside the room? I think I need to do this by myself," she replied. Mike nodded, trailing behind.

"Hey Hannah, is Mike okay?" Lola asked as she entered her room.

"Yeah, he's fine. Lola, I have to tell you something," Hannah said seriously.

"What is it?" Lola asked, a concerned expression etched onto her face.

"Lola, I-" Hannah gulped. With a deep breath, she removed her wig, exposing her brunette hair.

"Oh, wow. I always suspected you weren't a real blonde but I never thought it was a wig," Lola joked.

"Lola. It's not just the wig. It's me. My name is Miley Stewart. Hannah isn't a real person," Miley sighed.

"You- You're joking right?" Lola asked, hyperventilating slightly. "This is some kind of prank right? Your friend is going to bust in here with a camera any minute and-"

"Lola!" Miley yelled, worried that her friend was growing hysterical. Lola sat in a grave silence for a moment.

"Then it's all a lie?" She whispered.

"No, Lola it's-"

"Hannah's not a real person? And what? I'm not your real friend?" Lola began to yell.

"Lola that's not-"

"Has our whole friendship been a lie?" Lola cried.

Miley felt her heart break at the devastated expression on the girl's face, blotches of mascara streaking down her cheeks. Lola ignored the tears that spilled from her eyes, trying to keep her breathing in check.

"Lola you know that's not true," Miley said softly.

"I don't know what's true anymore," Lola spat. Unable to contain herself, Lola hurried out the door, knocking past Mike on the way out. Miley struggled to keep her composure.

"Oliver, what did I do?" Miley cried.

"It's gonna be okay," Oliver said, stripping the fake goatee off his chin. "Do you mind if I go talk to her?" He asked. Miley only looked at him with tearful eyes, and he knew what he had to do.

Lola sat hunched over by an immaculately landscaped pond. Her body was wracked with sobs, completely broken by the fact that her best friend was apparently a total fraud.

"Lola?" Oliver called out.

"What?" Lola hissed, blinking the tears out of her eyes. "You were in on this too?"

"Lola, my name is Oliver Oken. I'm Miley's friend. Trust me when I say that the genuine girl that you know is the same girl I know. Miley- or, Hannah, are both the same great person, and I know she's in there crying because she cares about you," Oliver confessed.

Lola hiccupped, trying to stop herself from shivering. Oliver took off his baggy jacket and wrapped it around her.

"…Lola?"

The two turned around to see Miley, standing shakily behind them. She took Lola's silence as a cue to continue.

"Lola you know that just because I was wearing a wig doesn't mean there was anything fake about our relationship. I don't know what I'd do without you," she said weakly. "Don't think for a second that because you knew me by Hannah instead of Miley that your friendship isn't the most important thing to me".

Lola tried to stay mad, but knew that no matter what name she went by, her friend was telling the truth.

"Friends?" Miley asked. Lola gave her a weak smile.

"Yeah… I guess. You so owe me though," Lola said, beginning to grin again.

"You're right," Miley said, settling down next to her two best friends. "The next party is on me, no Tracy allowed".

The three friends sat in silence, glad that everything was finally out in the open.


End file.
